VISIT TO SALLI AND DEPARTURE FOR MARÁKESH. 1846.
Mr. Hay’s firmness produced an effect on his surly hosts. On March
18 a letter arrived from the Sultan, which completely changed their
attitude towards him. His Diary thus continues:—
_March 18._ Young Ben Abu has just announced the arrival of a courier
from the Court. A cavalry soldier was the bearer of my letter, and
had accomplished the three days’ journey in twenty-four hours,
having been ordered by the Sultan to travel until his horse dropped
and then to continue on foot.
The letter from the Court is most satisfactory. The _amende honorable_
is made; the authorities here are reprimanded. Already have I received
messages from the Governor, crying ‘peccavi!’ The palace of the
Sultan here is being prepared for me, and a most plentiful ‘mona’
has been brought.
The Sultan’s orders are that tenfold honours are to be paid to
the British Envoy.
As soon as Ben Dris receives my answer, I am to proceed to the Court
escorted by the Governor of each successive district until I reach
the Sultan.
I have told the authorities here that I have forgotten all; and
like good friends or lovers, a little quarrel is going to make us
better friends than ever. With Moors, and indeed most Orientals,
you must be kind, but very firm, or the end would be great guns.
_March 20._ Our house is charming; a jewel of Moorish architecture. It
is quite new, and the workmanship is almost as good as that which
is seen in the Alhambra. The walls are highly ornamented in gypsum,
and very tastefully painted. The pavement is mosaic, and a fountain
stands in the midst, from which a jet of clear water plays; the
ceiling is carved and decorated, and intricate and mystical figures
adorn the walls. The huge folding doors and small windows are all in
the same style; in fact, the whole is perfection. On the walls are
written many verses of the Koran, and among other expressions which
I could decipher in the flowery writing, were ‘God is the true
wealth,’ and ‘Health is alone with the Everlasting;’ or, as we
should say, ‘Lay up your riches in heaven.’ Adjoining our rooms
are all sorts of intricate passages with small apartments, fountains,
baths, &c., and, quite separate, are quarters for the cook and other
servants. Then there is a pretty garden, run to weeds, with a charming
alcove of tastefully-turned woodwork, from which may be seen, on the
other side of the narrow street, the ornamented mausoleum of a saint,
shaded by a lofty palm-tree. Upon this house of the dead sit a couple
of storks, pluming themselves, billing and cackling the live-long day;
they are wild, but all their race in this country are fearless of man,
and on the house they choose for their nest, ‘no evil befalleth.’
‘Meteor’ has saluted; Salli and Rabát have replied. I walked
to the castle to witness the firing of the Moors; an immense crowd
followed, and although I was alone, except for one black soldier,
not a whisper or a curse was heard. Smiles and kind words were the
order of the day, and a murmur ran through the crowd that the English
are the Moslem’s best friends and are honoured by the Sultan.
Accompanied by Kaid Ben Abu (‘the Father of the Mountain’ is ill)
and a troop of cavalry, we rode towards Shella, passing through the
old part of the town of Rabát, of which the walls are still in good
preservation, and appear to have been formed of red tápia[11]. The
Governor informed me that tradition says they were built without
any foundation, and that thirty thousand Christian prisoners,
whom he said were from ‘Irak’ (I don’t know how this is to
be explained, except that they were Persians), worked at the walls,
and that many thousands of the bodies of those that died, or happened
to be punished with death, are embedded in the tápia.
We passed the gate called Bab-el-Haddad or the Smithy Gate. The
ancient town of Shella lies within a few yards of the old walls of
Rabát, and is built on one side of a conical hill.
The walls have a very ancient appearance, and the architecture
looks Saracenic.
Neither Christians nor Jews are allowed to enter Shella; though
Mr. Urquhart, who was here the other day, penetrated into the sacred
town, and his foolhardy curiosity very near cost him his life; for
a Moor with a gun happened to be there and fired at him, as I am
informed, but the gun missed fire. Urquhart was stoned by those who
had seen him enter, and was obliged to shut himself up in Rabát,
and ultimately take his departure. The town is not inhabited and is
in ruins. I could perceive the remains of a mosque or chapel. Ben
Yáhia, my Arabic secretary, tells me there are many inscriptions
but no dates, that one of these mentions the Sultan Assuad[12]
as having built a gate. ‘Sultan Assuad’ means the black Sultan.
I had much desire to see the interior of the town, as one has for all
things forbidden, but make it a point of duty never unnecessarily
to go contrary to the prejudices of the people, however gross they
may be. I believe at this moment, if I were to insist upon it,
the Governor would let me go anywhere and do anything.
We rode to the river side near the town, passing near some
saltpans. The valley had several fine gardens, abounding in orange
and pomegranate trees; the former were covered with their golden
fruit. Oranges are sometimes sold on the trees at the rate of about
a shilling a thousand—_and such oranges!_
_March 23._ Went over in a boat to Salli, as invited by Hadj Kassem,
the contractor for supply of bullocks to Gibraltar.
Hadj Kassem met us on the shore and, surrounded by half a dozen
of our own troopers and the same number of the Rabát soldiery,
we entered Salli, the hot-bed of fanaticism. Here a host of boys
began to muster round the party, but Hadj Kassem’s house was at
hand, and we took refuge there before the mob molested us. The Hadj
was very civil, and took us all over his house, which was furnished
in good Moorish style, with carpets of all kinds, looking-glasses,
and clocks, which latter generally indulge in indicating any hour
they please and never seem to be unanimous as to time after falling
into the hands of the ‘Faithful.’ I caught a glimpse of one or
two of the Hadj’s ladies: they appeared well-favoured. There was
a charming little girl of three or four years old, who was admitted
to our society; she sat in all the glory of full dress, on a cushion,
looking on with the gravity of a ‘Kadi.’ The Hadj feasted us with
Moorish tea of all kinds, and we were threatened with ‘siksu’
and other delicacies, from which, indeed, we had a most narrow escape.
Whilst talking to the Hadj, a great hubbub and shouting were heard
in the street, emanating from a mob of boys waiting to attack the
Christians as soon as they should appear. Hadj Kassem proposed a
retreat by the garden; and this was agreed upon. So out we sallied,
with half our soldiers in the front and half in the rear; backed by
one of our attendants, a young Sheríf, a very daring and active
youth. We had not gone a hundred yards before we were assailed at
the corner of one of the cross streets by a host of men and boys, who
pelted us with brickbats and stones of all sizes. Don José received a
blow on the shoulder. The Sheríf and some of our soldiers charged the
mob, one of whom was knocked down by a stone hurled by the Sheríf.
On we went at a rapid pace, and after us came a shower of
stones. Dr. Simpson received a blow on the head, and a Portuguese
skipper, who happened to have followed our party, ditto. Again and
again was the mob driven back by the Sheríf and our soldiers; but,
urged on by many a grey-headed fanatic, they rallied and pursued
us. At the town gate we found some rascals had got to the top of
the walls, intending to hurl down rocks upon our devoted heads. We
dislodged the enemy, however, with brickbats, from their stronghold
and then rushed into the open, making for the Hadj’s garden. A
madman, a dancing fanatic, had joined the mob and was yet urging
on the pursuit of us, whistling, jumping and twirling, in the most
savage style. We got safe into the garden, refreshed ourselves with
oranges, and wended our way towards the river.
The mob had again collected in force to oppose us, and a battle
of stones (or, as we should say in ‘Auld Reekie,’ a _bicker_),
took place. The ‘father of the red cap’ distinguished himself
by cracking the pate of one of the enemy—though only to ‘kill
him a little,’ as an Irishman would say. We reached the boat,
and I sent back one of my soldiers to the Governor of Salli to say
that I was extremely surprised to find he had not sent any guard to
prevent this uproar, and that, unless some satisfaction was given me,
I should report him to the Sultan. I received a reply, brought by the
Sheikh of the Jews, a Moorish Kaid, and some others, apologising for
what had taken place; the Governor of Salli declaring that he was
very unwell and that he had been totally ignorant of my intention
to visit Salli that day (this I rather doubt, as the Governor of
Rabát tells me he had written to inform him of our intention),
that he had put twenty of the offenders in prison, and would not
let them out until he had my permission.
I did not receive the Sheikh or the Moorish officer, nor did I accept
this apology as sufficient; for the story of the prisoners might or
might not be true, and public atonement is what I must require for
such a gross outrage. I therefore told my interpreter to tell the
messenger that, if the Governor of Salli wished to hear further from
me, he must come himself to my house in Rabát; or that, if he were
ill, he must send the Lieutenant-Governor and some of the prisoners,
and then I should see what was best to be done. The messengers left
us, very crest-fallen.
In Salli we saw nothing of interest: narrow streets and high town
walls were all that we had seen.
_March 24._ The Governor of Salli, his Khalífa and a Kaid,
the Governor of Rabát and Hadj Kassem, came to apologise for
yesterday’s outrage, bringing with them ten prisoners. The Governor
of Salli looked indeed very ill, as he had declared himself to be. He
made many apologies for the misconduct of the people of Salli and
for not having come to me himself, or sent some guards. He told me
he had taken twenty prisoners, that he had brought ten with him,
to be punished as I desired, and then to be taken back to prison to
remain there till I pardoned them. After giving him a lecture for
not keeping his people in better order, and pointing out the serious
consequences that might have attended any misfortune happening to
one of our party, I agreed to forget the past and requested him to
free the prisoners. The Governor of Salli then begged I would visit
his town another day, if I remained here for any time, adding that
he would come himself, with his guard, to meet me and would engage
that not even a word should be uttered against us.
No doubt yesterday will be long remembered by the people of Salli,
who are the worst of fanatics in Morocco. I am told the crews of
European vessels, taking in ballast on the shore, are often attacked,
with knives and swords, by these demi-savages. I trust what has now
passed will show them that Christians can command respect and are
not to be insulted with impunity.
I care little for all this, in fact I hate palaver; but look to
increase our influence—which perhaps has been somewhat on the wane
since French hostilities of last year—and trust I shall succeed by
pursuing a very firm, but friendly and just course towards all. Young
Ben Abu declares that what has occurred will cause Christians to be
better respected by the people, and will make the authorities more
on the alert and on their good behaviour towards Englishmen.
_March 25._ The brother of the Governor of Salli came this morning to
make professions of good-will. I sent Dr. Simpson with him to Salli,
to visit his brother who is ill. Simpson returned well pleased with
his reception; not a word, not a look, of insult from the crowd as
he passed; all was silence and respect.
On March 28 Mr. Hay left Rabát for Marákesh. In his diary he records
the events of the journey, the cordial receptions he met with from
the governors of the various provinces through which he passed,
and the savage parade which they made in his honour.
The account is too long to be given here in full detail; but a few
of the more striking incidents which occurred during his march are
found below.
On March 29 he writes:—An Arab, with a small dagger between his
teeth and making low bows, presented himself in the middle of the
road, saying, ‘I put myself under the hem of your garment.’
I thought the man was mad, and was preparing to meet some act of
fanaticism, when Kaid Abd Selam explained the mystery by telling me
that this man had killed another in feud, and had been condemned to
death, or, if the relatives of the deceased would accept it, to pay
blood-money. This they had agreed to do, and the individual, being
very poor, was travelling to collect the sum fixed upon (generally
about twenty or thirty pounds for a man) before a certain time. I
gave the poor wretch a trifle.
We have now entered the district of Shawía, famous for its ladies
and horses. The Sultan’s harem is principally supplied from this
part of the Empire. I have caught a glimpse of two or three very
fine-looking damsels. Their features are very delicate, eyes as
black as jet, with eyelashes that hang on the cheek when the eyes
are closed. Their figures also are graceful, but the rags they wear
would completely spoil their appearance, were it not that they barely
conceal their well-turned limbs. The country was better cultivated
than any we had yet seen, the barley and wheat already far advanced in
the ear and looking splendid. On the uncultivated ground a rich grass,
vying in luxuriance with a variety of wild flowers, carpeted our path.
I sigh to think of the word ‘scarcity’ being ever used in
this ‘blessed land,’ when such an excellent tract of country
is allowed to remain a neglected waste. But this is the result of
a system of government which destroys all security in property or
life. To cut the throat of the goose that lays the golden eggs is
the blind system of the Sultans of Morocco.
On passing a ‘duar’ several Arabs came to meet us, one of them
having a sheathed sword in his hand. This he laid across the crupper
of the saddle of the principal person of our party. A marriage has
taken place to-day, and these people have the custom of collecting
‘mona’ for the bridegroom in this manner.
On April 3 he writes:—There have been two Arab thieves about our
tents during the night: one was caught, the other escaped. The rascal
was taken before the Khalífa of the Governor of Dukála and has been
most severely bastinadoed. My informant reports the following scene.
_Kaid._ ‘Who are you?’
_Culprit._ ‘Mohammed Ben El Amrani.’
_Kaid._ ‘Down with Mohammed and lick him.’ (Six soldiers
advanced, four held his hands and feet, whilst two striped him
with cords.) After some three dozen, the Kaid says, ‘Who was
your companion?’
_Culprit._ ‘Abdallah.’
_Kaid._ ‘Down with him and see if that was his name.’ (Soldiers
beat the culprit, who sings out, ‘Selam Hamed Sodik.’)
_Kaid._ ‘Very well. So it was Sodik. Now what were you doing about
the tents?’
_Culprit._ ‘Nothing.’
_Kaid._ ‘Down with him.’ Culprit is licked, and sings out,
‘I came to pick up anything that was abandoned.’ (More stripes.)
_Culprit._ ‘I came to rob.’ (The soldiers stop.)
_Kaid._ ‘So you came to rob! Beat him again.’
_Culprit._ ‘I will never commit a theft again.’
_Kaid._ ‘No: that you shall not.’ (After some more stripes,
the poor wretch is led off prisoner.)
The approach to Marákesh is thus described:—
_April 7._ Struck our tents an hour before sunrise and continued
our journey to the southward, over a vast plain extending to the
east and west farther than the eye could see. About eight a.m. we
reached the foot of the hills called Jebíla, where there are many
wells and a kubba-topped sanctuary. A few tents were pitched in the
neighbourhood. The place is called Suánnia.
After taking a hasty breakfast we ascended the Jebíla (meaning in
Arabic, small mountains); they are almost barren. Here and there a
shrub of the ‘sidder[13]’ and a sweet-smelling acacia is to be
seen. At half-past ten, on descending the Jebíla, we came in sight
of the Moorish capital, in which stood most prominent the lofty
tower of the mosque called Kutubía. In the foreground lay a forest
of palms, and in the background the snow-capped gigantic range of
the Atlas. Owing to the intense heat of the day a waving atmosphere
veiled in great measure the grandeur of the scenery. The soldiers
pointed out to me the mountain which my father had ascended as far
as the snow on his first mission to the Sultan, when he visited the
high-perched village of Mesfíwa. At noon we entered the palm forest;
these palm-trees are valuable property and belong to the Sultan and
the townspeople. There are no enclosures, but each proprietor knows
the trees that belong to him. The trees had begun to put forth their
flower, which consists of a white stalk, with a mass of small flowers
in a sheath, looking in the distance like a white leaf.
At half-past twelve we reached the river Tensift, a fine clear
stream, over which there is a bridge of twenty-five arches, built,
I believe, by a Spaniard some years ago. Here we pitched our tents,
as we are not to enter Marákesh until the morning.
_April 8._ On crossing the river this morning a body of cavalry of
the district of Erhamna met us, with their Kaid and twenty banners,
in the midst of a fierce powder-play. After another hundred yards
we were met by the Bokhári guard with their Kaid and twenty-five
banners, who were succeeded by the troops of Mulai Dris, the native
soldiers of the city, with twenty-five banners of all colours, white
predominating; lastly, by the immediate followers or body-guard of the
Sultan with the green Sherifian flag and other banners. Lab-el-barod,
which a Frenchman might translate into ‘La belle parade,’ never
ceased along the whole road, some three miles, to Marákesh. The
dust was insufferable; the troops kept charging, reining in and
firing their guns within a few feet of us. The road was narrow,
as a wood of palm-trees flanked us on the right and left, and the
rush of cavalry was terrific. Every moment you would have supposed
they must have trampled down our party before they could check their
horses. Several messengers, the immediate attendants of the Sultan
and Uzir, came to welcome me on the part of His Majesty, repeating
the word ‘Mahababek,’ you are welcome. I cannot tell what may
have been the number of cavalry that met us; but as I am told there
are a hundred to each banner, there ought to have been from seven
to eight thousand men. It is said that the Sultan ordered every
horseman in the city of Marákesh and the camp to meet us. By the
wayside I observed a number of people begging, with large straw hats
on their heads. The straw hat in the neighbourhood of Marákesh is
a sign that the wearer is a leper: there are numbers of these poor
wretches; a separate town is given them—called Hara—and they are
not allowed to enter the city of Marákesh or communicate with the
inhabitants except on a Thursday, on which day they say this horrid
disease is not catching, as a great Moorish saint pronounced that
on that day leprosy should not be contagious.
After riding some half-mile along the town wall of this great capital,
we entered the gate called ‘Bab Hamár.’ At the entrance were
the tents of the troops (infantry).